A Republican cowboy from Texas goes to a social function where Hillary Clinton is trying to gather more support for her nomination. Once she discovers the cowboy is a Republican, she starts to belittle him by talking in a southern drawl and single syllable words.

As she was doing that, she kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around her head. The cowboy says, "Y'all havin' some problem with them circle flies?"

She stopped talking and said, "Well yes, if that's what they're called. But I've never heard of circle flies."

"Well ma'am," the cowboy replies, "circle flies hang around ranches. They're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling around the back end of a horse."

"Oh," Hillary replies as she goes back to rambling. But, a moment later she stops and bluntly asks, "Are you call ing me a horse's ass?"

"No, ma'am," the cowboy replies, "I have too much respect for the citizens of New York to call their Senator a horse's ass."

"That's a good thing," she responds and begins rambling on once more.

After a long pause, the cowboy, in his best Texas drawl says, . . . "Hard to fool them flies though."

* sent to me by Stacy the Peanut Queen

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When your car has run out of gas, pressing the gas pedal with all of your might still won't make it go.

Steroids can make nice guys mean, small boys big, and star players into legends. But all they can do for Congress is give them something to distract themselves with instead of doing their actual jobs.

Militant dedication to hating religious people is itself a religion.

Large churches are a great place to find scam artists looking for a sucker.

Anything thrown across a room in anger will always hit the most valuable object in the room.

Kittens are made of rubber. If not, they could not possibly survive the things they do.

There is nothing cute or lovable about a used litterbox.

The opposite of Blogging is Good Time Management.

The more means of communication we invent, the less time there is for everything else.

Growing old does not always mean growing up.

It is entirely possible for a person to never 'grow out of' being a stupid, know-it-all punk.

As bad as television distracted the previous generations from getting things done, it was nothing compared to email, the internet, and now text messaging on a cellphone.

Now that we have radios in our cars, email at our desks, televisions in our homes, and cell phones in our pockets, it is possible for a person to live out their entire life without ever once sitting quietly and contemplating deep thoughts.

Never lay an XBox on its' side while the game is in the drive and spinning.

When your underwear starts crushing your balls up against you, it usually means you've gotten fat, although you'll be convinced that all your underwear has just suddenly shrunk.

Live chickens smell like complete shit pretty much all the time.

Cow tipping is real.

A Camaro or Mustang combined with a mullet of any kind is not always a bad sign, but it is often enough to be a good rule of thumb.

Pretty much any car, truck or motorcycle combined with a mullet, aviator sunglasses, a black Dale Earnhardt jacket, and a pair of cowboy boots is like a giant billboard screaming LOSER in flashing neon letters.

If you want to know what a man is really made of, let him get a kidney stone while in church.

Pain makes you stronger, but it can also eliminate all happiness from your life. What good is that?

A man who makes a habit of beating his horse will eventually find himself pinned against the stall, unable to breath, as his horse 'accidently' leans on him for awhile.

It is foolish to discount or understimate a horse's sense of humor. Aside from pinning people against the barn, other horse 'jokes' include scraping riders out of the saddle with low-hanging branches, a well-timed buck that sends the rider tumbling down a hillside, biting a person's ass when their back is turned, and of course the ever-popular but more serious kick-to-the-head.

Cats hate being laughed at more than anything in the world. Dogs don't care if you laugh at them just so long as you're paying attention to them.

Never put a herd of miniature donkeys in a field with a prized bull. They will tear the bull up just out of meanness and you will have one hell of a hard time explaining it to the vet.

Raggedy old pickup trucks rarely caught fire while pulling heavy trailers, even when the load was strong enough to break their transmissions or axles. But new trucks burn frequently, if only because their owners don't the difference between a real truck and the shiny tricked-out toy they've bought.

A sinking boat will literally suck you down with it if you don't get the hell away from it before it goes down completely.

Taking a shit in the lake where you are swimming may seem like a good idea at the time, but sometimes turds float and when they do they will follow you, boat or no, all the way back to camp. Oh, you may think you've lost it. You may think the lake is huge and camp is so far away. But just wait awhile. It will show up.

If you push on a billygoat's horns, he will push back even harder. He won't stop even after you want to let go. If you let go, he will ram you. How fast can you run?

Animals fear men with sticks. Feminists fear men with dicks. City people fear country hicks. Girls fear being left out of cliques.

Many a fool has lost both of their shoes in the mud of a pasture, never to see them again. This is how people today learn why cowboy boots were invented in the first place.

Ostriches may look funny, but they're meaner than hell and can flat out fuck you up.

When a television show about how toilets are made absolutely fascinates you for a solid hour, you are either stoned or in desperate need of a vacation.

Life will kill you eventually. There are no do overs. Every moment matters. Ironically though, life seems longer when you're suffering, yet flies by when you're happy. So it would seem that the key to a long life is to suffer a lot and be unhappy.

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A couple of sheets of computer paper, thrown in a stack, can break the glass of a $200 picture.

A thin wire clothes hanger, thrown across a room and out into a hallway, can penetrate a sheetrock wall.

There is nothing between the skin of an average man's shin and his shinbone except blood, and lots of it.

It is actually possible for the lid of a jar of pickles to stick so tightly shut, that you can break the jar of pickles trying to get the lid off and still not turn it.

The door of a Toyota Corolla, no matter what year it was made, when kicked open with great force and caused to slam against the side of a 1969 Buick Wildcat, will fold at the end into the shape of the Buick's door. The Buick won't even show a scatch on the paint.

Those orange and white barrels that they fill with sand and place at construction sites to block traffic are more like a suggestion than an actual barricade to a 1972 Dodge Polara. They don't even scratch the chrome on its' enormous steel bumper, let alone slow it down.

A man punching a brick wall while drunk will get to see what his hand looks like on the inside, but he won't phase the brick wall and he won't impress his girlfriend.

No amount of alcohol can enable a man to lift a full sized American car, no matter how certain he is that he can do it.

No amount of alcohol can enable a man to smash a healthy watermelon over his own head, although he may knock himself unconcious in the attempt.

A healthy V8-powered American car can be easily made to fly without any difficulty whatever. It's the landing that causes all the problems.

While theoretically a rotary powered engine can rev far higher than any piston engine, there is still a point at which it will explode and then you have to walk home.

Being drunk does not make your car go any faster.

If God had not meant for men to fly he would have put seatbelts on motorcycles.

A woman can't drive a car very well if she's accidently slid over into the passenger seat after clipping a curb while fleeing from the cops. But she will try anyway.

Little men with strong opinions should not voice those opinions to big men in beat up old Mustangs until the big men are out of earshot.

Bitter divorced women who live alone and shout at the men on the TV never seem to get any happier with time. They just get crazier.

A bicycle can only be jumped over a large ramp a certain number of times before something breaks off, usually in mid-air at the worst possible time.

During a hurricane is not the best time to try a 'boomerang throw' with a Frisbee. It will come back, but you may get hurt catching it.

It is unwise for a boy to get into a heated argument with a violent red-headed girl who can run faster than him.

When you are in high school you can smoke cigarettes and still run marathons. In fact, when you are in high school you can do just about anything. This does not last long.

There are birds in Arizona large enough to grab and fly away with small dogs.

It doesn't matter how many times you get kicked in the balls. You never get used to it.

Whatever direction you intend for a tree to fall while cutting it, it will always fall in the direction of your truck.

Soccer has sent more Americans to the hospital than anything to ever come from Europe in all of history.

Having absolutely no talent whatever will not prevent a person from being cast in a movie and later given an award on TV.

Reporters actually can lie on television, and also in the newspapers, contrary to what most 12 year olds firmly believe.

Striking a psycho in the nose with your palm will not drive the bone of their nose into their brain and kill them, but it will cover their face in blood and make them really angry.

Leaning backwards against the door of a modern car can leave a perfect imprint of your ass in that car's door, even if you didn't mean to do it.

Swatting a fly with your hand against your windshield can break the windshield and still not kill the fly.

No matter how many scumbag politicians are forced to resign in scandal, there is always another one ready and anxious to take their place. We never seem to run out of them.

Narcissists get more hot women than non-narcissists.

Money can't buy happiness, but it can buy a judge and sometimes that's good enough.

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1) Are you an Aunt/Uncle?Yes, I am an aunt and an uncle. It confuses the kids, but that's half the fun.

2) Can you do a cartwheel?I mostly just 'do' women. I should think it's probably some sort of felony these days to 'do' a cartwheel. They'd charge me with some sort of obscure sex crime. Anyway, I don't know where exactly I'd find a cartwheel. I can do a roundoff, a handspring, and a flip, either front or back. Do these count for anything?

3) What are your feelings concerning your ex?My ex what? My ex-track coach? He was a good guy. My ex-basketball coach? He was a good guy, too. My ex-boss? Some of them were not such good guys.

5) How do you feel about your last relationship?Was that my last one? Oh shit, why doesn't anybody tell me these things?!

6) Do you ever want to hang out with someone of the opposite sex?Yes, I hang out, but they usually scream and point. Then the police come. Then I get into trouble for all that 'hanging out' and they make me put it away and give fingerprints and DNA and shit.

7) What is the weather like right at this very moment?Dark, with widely scattered light expected by morning.

8) What is something that you can't wait for?Sex with Jessica Biel. I mean, I'll wait if she's on her way here, but she said 'when hell freezes over', so waiting is probably pointless.

9) How many times have you been to Canada?Two times, unless you count the helicopter ride and then it's like 5 'cause we kept crossing over and back, over and back, over and back.

10) Have you ever had a reptile as a pet?No, but I had one as a coworker once.

11) What is your favorite fruit?Richard Simmons cracks me up a bit.

12) What song is on your myspace profile right now?I don't know. Go look and tell me what you find. It used to be something by Regina Spektor and then I think I switched to Elvis, but I can't remember anymore. I'm not there much.

13) Who was your last missed call on your cell phone?Jessica Biel. DAMMIT!

14) Where are you most ticklish?The police station.

15) How many hours a week do you normally work?40 to 50, not counting all the work I do at home. You know, if husbands were paid for all the work we do at home our salary would be 100 bazillion dollars. Yeah, 'cause we're considered consultants and we get to set our own hourly rates. Pay up, biatch!

17) Do you have deep dark secrets?Yes, I killed Kennedy, but don't tell anyone. I've totally fooled everyone into believing that I wasn't born yet when that happened.

18) When was the last time you were sick?Well, Queen Latifah was on the TV about 3 hours ago and I felt pretty nauseous, let me tell you. The bitch ain't funny and she ain't pretty and she can't act. There's only one reason she's on the TV and everyone knows it.

19) What color is your car?African-American

20) How many siblings do you have?1 brother, 3 sistah soul sistahs

21) Have you ever gotten caught sneaking out?No, my parents were mostly unconcious and unconcerned by the time I came along

22) Did you ever try running away from home when you were younger?Probably, but look where it led me. I was better off back in Alabama.

23) What makes you the happiest?I'm still trying to figure that one out.

24) How do you feel when you see a child at the store throwing a "Tantrum"?I feel like breaking out the old air horn and blasting the punk with freon-powered sound. There, how do YOU like it?

25) Where do you want to be right now?Australia

26) Have you ever finished a Rubik's Cube?Many times. I'm a geek like that.

27) Who are you thinking about right now?Well, as soon as I mentioned Australia I immediately thought of ... Kylie Minogue. No, I'm kidding. I was thinking of a certain blonde Aussie who had her Buddha stolen by a neighbor who thought it was a garden gnome that she was throwing out.

28) When was the last time you rode a bike?Weeks ago, I guess, although if you count my getting an enema from the bicycle seat as I tried to manuver past the bikes to get to the riding mower out in the building earlier today, then I rode today.

29) Do you have any vacation plans for this summer?I plan to buy a crotch rocket and hit the highway, never looking back until I run out of gas and money to buy more. I may ride all the way to Brazil if I'm not careful.

30) Where were you 1 hour ago?In my truck driving like a bat out of hell down a dark country road.

31) Who will be your next kiss?Shannon Elizabeth. I've finally found her home address and you know I'm the Super Stalker. She's in for a big wet surprise. I hope she isn't armed.

32) Do you kiss a lot of people?Legally? No, not so much.

33) Are you wearing socks right now?Socks, L.L. Bean leather houseshoes, Bazooka pajama pants and a Camel cigarettes T-shirt. Now let's see you get that image out of your head.

34) When was the last time you went out of state?Depending on just how windy that dark country road was, I might have done it an hour ago without even realizing it.

35) Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?No, I've been to kings and queens, but I haven't been to the movies in the last 5 days. Oh hell, now that damn song is going to be in my head all night. Stupid '80s sob song!

36) What was the last thing you had to drink?Your blood. Blah blah!

37) What are you wearing right now?Did I not just tell you this? Aren't you paying attention? Fine. I'm wearing a giant yellow chicken suit.

38) What was your last purchase?Sex from the woman across the street. She's expensive, but not as expensive as Eliot Spitzer's woman, that's for sure. Although, come to think of it, they look a lot alike. Kristen, is that you?

39) Last thing you ate?Dead cow, grilled, covered in ketchup, and placed between two buns. Mmm mmm.

40) Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?Do condoms count as clothing items?

41) Are you a sexual predator?More of a sexual dieter.

43. Three words to explain why you last threw up?I was sick.

45. What was the last movie you watched?Death Proof, with Kurt Russell, a man who will always be, to me, The Strongest Man in the World.

46. Do you think Barbie is a negative role model for young girls?No, I think Hillary Clinton is. She's like the anti-Barbie.

47. What kind of car does your father drive?Hearse, and now that he's dead, it's oddly ironic.

48. Do you like scrabble?Yes, and I can kick your ass in it, too.

49. Where did you attend high school?At the place where they built it, of course.

52. Last TV program you watched?Oh, good Lord, you know, I don't remember.

53. Spell your name with no vowels?yr nm

54. Does your neighbor have an animal that annoys you?It's mostly his stereo and that truck with the turbo muffler that annoys me. Especially at 2 am.

55. Does your family own any boats?First we'd have to decide whether I technically even have a family. And then, either way, the answer would still be no. Unless you count in-laws.

56. Something you can't live without.Air

57. Do you wear flip flops constantly?Yes, I wear them like a G-string. One on the front and one on the back. It makes me look like I'm packin' for the ladies, but it also make me look like I've crapped my pants. I try to only let the women see me from the front for that reason.

59. Do you have air conditioning in your room?My room? What, like I live with my parents and I only get one room? I have air conditioning in my house, biatch. And a furnace, too. And a gas fireplace that we never freakin' use, too. Yeah! And a stove and a tankless water heater and a big-assed garage stuffed full of my cars. What do you think about that?!

60. Have you ever kissed your dog?Why would you ask me that? What kind of perverted freak are you?!

61. Where were you when 9/11 happened?In a van, down by the river!

62. How often do you read books?Every day. But only one page per day. By the time I reach the end I have to start over again because I've totally forgotten what happened.

65. Describe the computer you are currently using?It has a monitor and a keyboard and a mouse and a pair of DD hooters and a fine, fine ass.

66. How long does it take you to get ready to go out?Out where? Out streaking? 2 seconds. Out to church? Quite a bit longer.

67. Will you donate your organs after you pass?I pass all the time. You want them to take my organs just for that? It's just gas, dude, chill out.

68. Have you been outside of the USA?Yes, but don't tell anyone.

69. Would you ever get your nipple pierced?Not on purpose.

70. If you could pick one person to be with forever who would it be?Shannon Elizabeth, but she has to be naked the entire time.

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One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge. I was maybe 1 and a half years old. Someone had given me a little 'tea set' as a gift and it was one of my favorite toys. Daddy was in the living room engrossed in the evening news and my brother was playing nearby in the living room when I brought Daddy a little cup of 'tea', which was just water.

After several cups of tea and lots of praise for such yummy tea, my Mom came home. My Dad made her wait in the living room to watch me bring him a cup of tea, because it was 'just the cutest thing!!'

My Mom waited, and sure enough, here I come down the hall with a cup of tea for Daddy and she watches him drink it up, then says, 'Did it ever occur to you that the only place that baby can reach to get water is the toilet??'

* emailed to me by Mrs. Memphis

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Wednesday night we went for a walk, just My Wife and I. My cat, Spongebob Stinkypants, walked a short distance with us. It was pitch black outside. We could only barely see him trotting long the grass somewhat behind us. Eventually he disappeared, in one of the yards close to ours, still very close to home.

We walked for about 2 miles. It wasn't very far. We have both been dealing with a great deal of stress and needed the exercise and chance to get out in the fresh air.

When we came home there was no sign of Stinky. I figured he was off in the trees where he usually is at this time of night. So we thought nothing of it and went inside.

Late that night, when it was time for bed, I turned on the porch light and called him. But he did not come. There was no sign of him. Finally, I gave up and went to bed. I figured he'd be sleeping on the back porch in the morning, like he always does if he doesn't come in.

The next morning I went to let him in. He wasn't there.

That afternoon, when I was sure he'd have come home, he wasn't there. My Wife and I began to worry.

Thursday morning I looked outside, still expecting to see him there, laying on the back porch, perhaps with a mouse. But he wasn't there.

It became a pattern. Each time I walked past the back doors I would look out, expecting to see him there. But he never appeared.

My Wife's levels of stress and worry quickly ramped up. I was surprised at how upset she was. After all, Stinky is mostly my cat and the Little Girl is mostly hers.

But I had noticed that the Little Girl was worrying, too. She had suddenly become afraid to go outside. And she was searching the house over and over again, trying to find Stinky, the cat who pounces her incessantly.

Little Girl began to worry us as much as the missing Stinky did. She wasn't eating. She wasn't using the litterbox. She wouldn't go outside. All she did was sleep. Whenever she got up to get a drink or come sit in a lap, she walked very slowly, as if it pained her to move. And when she lay in a lap, she hugged it tight.

I must confess, I had no idea how much pets can feel until just these past few years, when Booger Bear died and Little Girl was so unhappy. And now, with Stinky missing, and Little Girl again so depressed that she won't eat or drink anything and won't go outside.

On Friday I printed up flyers saying, "Lost Cat - male Maine Coon" and featuring a big photo of Mister Spongebob Stinkypants taken just last week as he walked in the snow. I put them in mailboxes all the way up and down my street.

I went out back, and seeing a neighbor in his yard behind us, I walked across the 2 acres of mushy, muddy, wet land from my back porch to his, so I could speak to him.

"Hi, I'm your neighbor, Steve," I said, introducing myself. He was older and probably retired. He looked at me through his glasses. "I've lost a cat, a gray and white maine coon with a red collar. I was wondering if you might have seen him."

"I see him all the time, him and a black cat," he replied, putting down his garden sprayer and wiping his gloved hands on his pants. "I'd shake your hand, but I've got poison on my gloves here. Anyway, the two of them run along those trees. I wasn't sure if anyone owned them. I see a lot of cats in there all the time."

"The black cat with the red collar is mine, too" I said. "There's another black cat, a tom, I don't know who he belongs to. And an orange Himalayan, a monster of a tom. He's not ours either. But the gray and white, he's mine and he's missing."

"Well, someone may have taken him," he hesitated "but you know, there are a lot of animals around here, owls and coyotes, and they'll kill a cat if they can catch him."

I think my expression gave my thoughts away because he quickly added, "but I haven't seen any owls large enough to take a cat so far this year. They aren't that common, but they do come around. None of these hawks," he said, pointing to the circling flock of enormous birds overhead, "are large enough to take a cat. It's just the owls and the coyotes, mostly.

I thanked him for his time and sloshed home again across the damp yards, not feeling any better at all.

As I walked home again, wondering where Stinky is, I realized that the trees where he and Little Girl like to go run all the way down the length of the street behind us, much further than we can see. And the people living along that street obviously see them running there all the time. I hadn't dropped any flyers in their mailboxes. I only put them in the mailboxes along my own street.

That same night, Friday, I printed up more flyers. Saturday morning I waited for the mailman to come. I wanted to put them in the mailboxes after he had come, but before anyone had a chance to get their mail. It was raining. In fact, it was pouring. The yards and streets were covered in rapid running water like a whitewater river. I didn't care. I want my cat back.

Finally the mail came. I grabbed my flyers and jumped into my truck. The street may be directly behind our house, but getting there is a bit of a trek. I drove the several blocks to the other street, noticing the rain letting up mercifully. Then I parked my truck and got out to walk the long street, stuffing flyers in every mailbox. I held them under my coat to keep them from getting soaked. It was a long walk, and it was wet. As I walked I looked around at every house, hoping against hope to see Stinky peering out someone's window or running across their yard. But there was no sign of him.

My shoes were filling with water as I stepped through streams that ran across the road in my path. I realized that we all live on a hill and that the houses behind me are higher than my house, even as my house sits at the top of the hill compared to the other houses on my street. I hadn't noticed this before. All the water flows down and down, into some poor soul's yard down there somewhere below me.

In my last home, that poor soul had turned out to be me, thanks to some relandscaping the wealthy neighbors had all done as they had their inground pools installed. I had even gone to the trouble of finding and purchasing flood insurance at that house, after having done all we could to set up huge drain pipes underneath the yard and yet still seeing deep waters rise dangerously close to the house in heavy rains. I felt relieved to know that this time there would be no rising river or lake against my home in rains such as this. This time my yard would send that water flowing right on past, down the road and away from my house, my empty house, where a cat was supposed to be, but wasn't. Where was my cat?

All day Saturday I sat and waited, looking outside frequently in the hopes that someone had gotten their mail, read my flyer, and realized that they had my cat. All they had to do was open the door and let him go. He'd come straight home, probably with a mouse he picked up along the way. But he never came.

Saturday night My Wife and I sat and talked. She told me for the first time how she had noticed that as we walked away from Stinky, he had stopped and hunched his back up, apparently seeing someone or something in the darkness that we had not noticed. She thought nothing of it at the time. It hadn't struck her as anything ominous until I mentioned the coyotes. Since then she had been wondering and worrying, what if we had stopped and gone back to investigate? What if we had simply taken Stinky back inside the house before going on our walk? Oh, if only.

Sunday came and we went to church. We sat in Sunday school when they asked for prayer requests. Should I even bother mentioning that while some here have a child in the hospital or a mother with cancer, that we are worried about our cat? We looked at each other silently. We had both come to believe that Stinky was almost certainly dead. And so we said nothing.

Sunday was a sunny day and we worked out in the yard just a bit. Little Girl came outside and walked around with us. She actually seemed to enjoy herself a bit. She always enjoys when we come outside with her. But she didn't last long. She didn't have much energy. Before long she was back inside the house again, lying in her bed just like before. I couldn't help looking around during the time we were out, always keeping an eye out, wondering if maybe Stinky might come running from the trees, pouncing across the yard as he always used to do, bounding with the energy of a nearly grown kitten. But of course he didn't.

Sunday night we watched a DVD, "The Bee Movie" by Jerry Seinfeld. It was funny and gave us a much needed relief of laughing. Little Girl slept in My Wife's lap while we watched it. Everything felt normal. Except for Stinky not being there with us. But we were putting it out of our minds. There is so much to worry about without having this, too. And anyway, what can we do? We've just about done all we know to do at this point.

I'll admit, I had prayed several times for Stinky to return. But over the years, as I've lived and learned hard lessons here in Memphis, my faith has faded. I don't know how to explain it exactly. It's not that I don't believe God has the ability to do things. It's just that I don't believe he cares quite so much. I don't mean that I don't believe he cares about people in general. Just about me. Even that isn't really an accurate description of what I've come to feel. I don't really know just how to express it. I just don't pray the way I used to. I pray more like someone trying not to annoy someone. I guess I've come to believe that God doesn't like me and I don't know what to do about it.

5 days have passed and we have given up. Stinky is almost certainly dead. Anyone who might have taken him has seen the flyers. He has been running through the neighborhood for months. Why would someone just now conclude that he's abandoned and take him? And he's fixed. Why would he just suddenly take off, not coming home after 2 major storms, and wander? Fixed male cats don't run like that. Only toms do that.

Monday morning came and I sat at the table eating my breakfast. I didn't even bother to look outside. Little Girl was still in her bed, not stirring to eat or ask to go out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving. I turned and looked.

There was Stinky with no collar on, laying on the back porch, flipping a mouse around in his paws, flicking his tail, looking over at me as if nothing had happened. I had to look twice to be sure it was him.

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New York Governor and former cowboy attorney general Eliot Spitzer was busted by the IRS, of all things, for paying over $80,000 to the Emperors Club VIP call girl service for the services of America's most expensive prostitutes. His favorite, apparently, was a girl who called herself Kristen.

Kristen, that's a lovely name. I'll bet she's pretty.

Immediately upon the discovery of this 'indescretion', the New York Republican Party called for cowboy Spitzer's resignation. Many of his former targets, including Martha Stewart, who some say he put in jail for utter bullshit, are believed to also be quietly calling for his resignation. And perhaps a few other things that may or may not include bodyparts and blood.

Now, my own take on this is perhaps a bit unique, I don't know. I was raised in Alabama. I grew up Southern Baptist. And yet, given all that, my own reaction to this was simply this:

I'll bet those are some kick-ass prostitutes!

Other than that, I pretty much yawned at hearing the news. Another Democrat is caught with another hooker. So what? And he spent a lot of money on her. Again, so what? Was it the state of New York's money or was it his own? If it was his own, I don't care.

The thing is, when you join the Democratic Party it is pretty much a given that you hire hookers, smoke pot, and take illegal 'contributions' on a regular basis. This is the whole reason for joining the Democrats. It's the PARTY party. And should you ever get caught, the Party rallies around you and attacks whomever it was that caught you. "Judge not lest ye be judged" they always say, completely misusing the only verse in the entire Bible they even know. But it always works and they always get away with it. Always.

Democrats don't resign. They attack. If you ever see a Democratic politician committing a crime, run before you get railroaded into jail after a long and drawn out smear campaign designed to destroy you and everyone who ever knew you. Don't report what you saw. Just pretend you never saw anything.

Lately, though, as the Feminist Political Machine has increasingly seized control of the Party party, especially in New York, it has become increasingly ... what is the word? Religious? Intolerant? Fanatical? I don't know. You can smoke pot, you can molest children, you can hide bodies, you can do all sorts of things, but if you are a man having sex with a woman, well THAT is a crime against womyn and you are going to hell! Unless you make a sizable contribution to the National Organization for Women, that is. If you do that then your sins are absolved and you are forgiven.

Sound familiar, Martin Luther? Sure it does.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when today Mr. Cowboy Spitzer actually announced his resignation. I never thought he would. I had already tuned this story out, expecting the usual round of counter attacks and accusations against whomever had caught him. I guess the IRS is a bit hard to smear. Perhaps they are too tough even for the Democrats? I don't know.

The expression on Mrs. Spitzer's face, "Mrs" being a term no one in America is ever allowed to use without being excommunicated, perhaps told a story of forthcoming doom for Mr. Spitzer. She didn't look angry or tough or plastic like Hillary did when Bill was caught lying under oath about Monica Lewinsky. She didn't look like a politician's ambitious wife at all. She looked like an actual wife. And they both looked ready to cry.

Dawn Wells, who played Mary Ann on the old show "Gilligans Island" was arrested for driving under the influence and in possession of a bag of pot.

Several of her friends came forward and testified that it was their pot and they had smoked it in her car. She got off with a light sentence.

The reaction to this story has been pretty light. It's a curiosity and perhaps a shock for Mary Ann to be busted for drugs. But what a testament to her friends, that they would come forward and claim the pot as theirs. She must be pretty decent to have friends like that.

Well, that's about all the exciting news I see just now. Oh sure, the U.S. economy is teetering around recession, there is crisis in the Middle East, we have an election campaign with two Democratic candidates battling it out for the nomination, and all of that. But let's face it, these two stories are the only thing anyone is really reading this week.

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A University of Memphis Tigers scout flies to Baghdad to watch a young Iraqi play basketball in a new American sponsored league and is very impressed with a young Iraqi player. He arranges for him to come over to the US and play basketball on scholarship.

A few months later the Tigers are down 10 points to the Louisville Cardinals with only 5 minutes left. Calipari gives the young Iraqi the nod and he goes in. The kid is a sensation, scoring 5 three point goals in 5 minutes and winning the game for the home team Tigers!

The fans, players and coaches are all delighted. Even ESPN loves this new star!

When the player comes off the court he phones his Mom to tell her about his first day of NCAA basketball.

"Hello Mom, guess what?" he says in an Iraqi accent. "I played for 5 minutes today, we were 10 points down, but I scored 5 three pointers and we won. Everybody loves me, the fans, the media, they all love me."

"Wonderful," says his Mom, "now let me tell you about my day. Your father got shot in the street and robbed, your sister and I were ambushed, raped and beaten and your brother has joined a gang of looters, and all while you were having such great time."

The young Iraqi is very upset. "Mom, I'm so sorry."

"All you can say is you're sorry?!?!?!?!?" says his Mom. "It's your fault we moved to Memphis in the first place!"

Today's illustrious post is over at Burt Reynold's Mustache. Please click here and go check it out. I know all you Google Reader users are annoyed at having to actually come here to Blogger, but it's only once a month, sort of like a period, only without the cramps and spotting.

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